


Improbability

by laEsmeralda



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laEsmeralda/pseuds/laEsmeralda
Summary: Mal and part of theFireflycrew accept a job making a delivery to Valinor. This story upends universe and canon in an improbable crossover.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Improbability

Mal felt Serenity shimmy beneath him in a wholly unsettling way. “River?” he hollered, already sprinting for the bridge. Her dark head didn’t turn as his boots clanged to a stop in the doorway. “She doesn’t like twisty space,” River declared, irritably, _at_ him.

“Twisty?” Another slide and shudder of the ship echoed him. He could see blackish, and stars, the usual, and the glow of their destination planet. But he could also discern a wrong opaqueness in their path.

“There’s no going around it… keeps moving in the way.” 

If River was struggling, that gave cause for concern. He took to the other seat and ran diagnostics. “We’re exceedingly talented at moving out of our way such that’s in our way.” Without looking, he sensed River throwing him a sidelong glare. The fact that she didn’t huff at him further troubled.

“We’re early.” It sounded like she was scolding him.

“That’s a good thing to my way of thinking. Early delivery, early deal, early recompense.”

“The Quendi don’t like early.”

Mal flipped another switch. “Any reason you’dve waited to share that particular tidbit until now?”

Her reply came sharply, “My calculations had us arriving _on time_.”

“So…they’re blocking us? With that shimmery thing?”

River tossed her head. “That’s not something even the Quendi can move around. That’s its own self.”

He felt more than heard Jayne join them, which was particularly disconcerting. Jayne only fell quiet when shocked into rare cautiousness. “Self?” Mal queried aloud, rhetorically. “Seems improbable.” Serenity agreed with a sideways slide that made his stomach threaten to return breakfast.

“Correct usage!” River exclaimed. “Give the man a cookie.”

“There’s cookies?” Jayne interjected, breaking his quiet and sounding highly put out to just be learning of them.

“Strictly figurative reward,” Mal muttered back. “We’re being pulled into whatever it is.” He tried to not project the worry that rose up. “Get the others battened down. For lack of alternate term, I’m calling that a wormhole and we’re going in against our clear preferences.” 

Jayne went banging down the hallway, yelling for the others. 

River worked her console furiously, uncharacteristically without muttering or eye rolling. Only a few moments later, Mal felt a queer stretch of… everything, and the greenish disk of Valinor’s vast forests, the prize so close, vanished from view.

Space is silent, ships are not. The silence that suddenly enfolded them felt utter. His field of vision was full of blur, then white, then blue-green. 

All at once, sound came thundering back.

“Water—H2O water—salt, fishes, sand, weeds!” River sang over the whine of the ship and the thudding of something huge against all of her hull.

Serenity surfaced with pressure-driven force, a mythical beast sluicing off the cling of cold ocean in favor of the sky. River brought her to hover above the choppy waters.

“Keep her low ‘til I reckon where we are,” Mal said with quiet command. The charts kept recalculating and presently made little sense, wobbling hither and to. 

“Not early anymore,” River remarked with a giggle.

“We’re early somewhere,” Mal mused, “just don’t know where.” He got up and punched the intercom. “Stay sharp, don’t yet have our bearings.”  
*******

He had to allow that the mountains and pines (if they were that) so near to the shore took a man’s breath away. There wasn’t any folk about, but a thin plume of smoke suggested someone was making themselves to home a distance into the tree line. 

Serenity’s gauges had settled to an unsettling answer. They were far from Valinor. The delivery would now be late. A few decades late if they couldn’t find the same way back. 

Mal had marked the surfacing point coordinates and River had opined that they hadn’t been far below the surface when they arrived. Before trying a return, they decided to land and check every system. 

The intercom popped on. “Cap, that box we brought on is making noise. It has some sort of symbol flashing on top.” Kaylee sounded intrigued and apprehensive as only she could.

“Don’t touch it ‘til I get down there,” he admonished. “Repeat it back.” Resisting curiosity wasn’t her strong suit. 

“Don’t touch it,” she soft-whined.

River landed the ship as unobtrusively as possible in a clearing near the trees, which still would have alerted anyone within twenty miles. This didn’t look like a place as had frequent visitors, but you never knew the kind of trouble being noticed would bring.

“Might need your special reading skills,” Mal said, taking her elbow to steer her to the hold.

“Lexicon,” she corrected.

The large chest now projected a holographic object just above it. River giggled. “It’s just an arrow.” Didn’t look like an arrow to Mal. A glance around the others confirmed skepticism. Up came her hand. “That way.”

_That way_ happened to be the direction of the smoke plume. He punched button for the bay door and they ventured out.

Jayne took a mighty breath as he swung Vera onto his back. “Freshest ever, I’d say. Let’s get to huntin’.”

“We don’t know the rules of this place,” Simon cautioned.

“Best not to go killing anything yet,” Mal agreed. 

Kaylee reappeared with a basket and sterilizer canteens. “What about berries and such? Fresh water?” 

Mal nodded, “Just look to not poisoning anyone.” A superfluous comment as Kaylee knew the ins and outs of edibles on at least fifty worlds. “Stick together, keep weapons close, we don’t have the lay of this land or its folk.” 

They swept out from the forest side of the ship. In the direction of the smoke, after a solid thirty minutes of nothing but innocuous wildlife noises, trees, and bushes—some of them fruit-bearing—everyone’s guard started to come down. Mal was laughing around a mouthful of sweet goodness when something approximating a hatchet flew past his left ear, accompanied by a snarling growl not unlike a Reaver might make. Weeks worth of adrenaline flooded his system.

“Down!” he belted out, and whipped up his pistol, firing before he got a good look and heard Vera report as well. Even from his belly, Jayne was a dead shot. The crashing that followed suggested the felling of something much larger than any of them. 

Outwaiting a few seconds of silence, Mal risked raising his head. Not twenty paces away lay a large mound of clothing, tangled hair, and grayish flesh. It didn’t move. He held up a hand to keep the others where they were. They took him serious for a long minute. It seemed there were no companion hatchets. He crawled forward, trying to ignore the squish and prickle of unidentified forest floor items. 

When he got an up-close look, the creature appeared not human but humanoid. It had to be nearly seven feet tall. Its oversized, sharp teeth were bared in death, the clothing leather and homespun. Jayne’s shot had taken it in the forehead. The mark of his own gun was still spreading across one side of its chest in reddish-black blood. Then, he saw the fletches of a deeply embedded arrow sticking out of the front of the creature’s shoulder. 

“Go shi,” he said aloud. “We’ve taken out a local. And we’re not alone.” He clambered to his feet and holstered the pistol.

“He pulled first, Mal, you’re lucky your head ain’t split in two.” 

“Let’s hope that explanation’s justifiable on this world.”

“Violence in defense of self, or others, is accepted on most worlds.” All four of them whirled, three guns loudly cocking. Mal had a surreal moment of hilarity in the process of turning that Kaylee could manage to level a rifle without upending her basket of treasure. 

Mal’s eyes settled on the source of the voice and when their gazes met, the greater part of his insides jolted him with joyful sensations. His gun hand dropped to his side. Whatever Mal’s expression might have been, the stranger returned a sad smile. “I am no threat to you.” In fact, the strung bow had been lowered from the first words, but Mal found he could not agree with the statement.

“Hello, second part of our delivery,” River said, cheerily. She stepped forward and put a fist to her chest. “I’m River.” 

The stranger mirrored her, adding a nod of his head. “I am called Legolas. Welcome to Arda.”  
*******

Mal tried to look about the room in a casual manner but his eyes kept settling on their soon-to-be passenger, who was relating his tale with a voice that could have commanded armies or soothed a colicky child to slumber.

“I brought my daughter across the passage to visit Father. She has made her mind to stay with him for a time. It is ill-advised, as the passage has faded… become unstable. I myself traveled here months ago to await a ship and you are the first to arrive. But the young are so difficult to persuade, “ he sighed.

“You’re young,” chirped Kaylee, sipping her tea from distance close enough to Legolas’ shoulder that some might call it overly familiar.

Legolas smiled, a bit brighter than before. “Child, I have lived hundreds and hundreds of your years.” He glanced at Mal.

The notice, accompanying that declaration, resolved the giddiness still roiling in Mal’s gut into a decided hardness in his trousers. He was not often . They each held one others’ regard until just that almost-too-long moment. Legolas reached for the teapot.

Mal took in his crew. Kaylee watched Legolas’ hands with unabashed admiration. Jayne had only eaten one sweet from the plate in front of him and was sprawled in his chair actually listening. River’s chin rested on both hands. Simon smiled a particularly dazzling reply to a simple inquiry about a refill. When Legolas graced him with warmth in response, Mal felt a stab of annoyance. Of course, the beautiful youngster, with his fancy clothes and vocabulary, couldn’t help but be noticeable. He felt decidedly unkempt of a sudden.

“…But you maintain a pretense,” Simon said, and Mal realized he had lost the thread of conversation.

“We keep the outpost in the remote wilds for good reason. Arda is a world of simple methods, limited sciences, brute violence, and complex myths. The concept of other inhabited worlds has not yet arisen. As the people who came here from _elsewhere_ , the Quendi have a responsibility to minimize our influence. After long disagreement amongst ourselves and many wars, we chose to retreat to our planet of origin rather than continue to colonize.”

“Some of you went native,” Jayne said, undiplomatically. 

“I was born here. Some few of us have aided the humans and halflings to prevent a genocide. After, I stayed behind for the lifespan of my friends who remained.” Pain suffused his features for the briefest moment. “I acquiesced and left for Valinor some thirty years ago, but I longed to see my father, and I wanted my daughter to know him while she could still be guided by a grandparent. Now, I must return to my duties without her. Life always presents difficult choices.” His eyes shifted back to Mal and something of an understanding of elders hard used in battle passed between them. 

Kaylee interjected into the moment, “Mister Legolas, we ain’t really sure how we ended up here. Serenity doesn’t sail the water like them boats you described—as engineer, I’m struggling with how we get back.”

“The parcel you carry for me engaged with the outpost beacon as soon as you neared the passage.” His eyes twinkled at Kaylee’s manner, but he answered her without condescension. “I am certain that entering the contract gave your instruments the necessary information for navigation in both directions. Returning will be more delicate given where the passage lies since the cataclysm that took the isle that used to serve. Our shipbuilders made rudders with trailing special chains to troll the current. ’Tis likely that my kin equipped you.” Legolas visibly checked himself. “Apologies. It is difficult not to lapse into the speech patterns expected of me here.”

“In the chest!” River exclaimed. She slid into Jayne’s lap not realizing that his chair was balanced on two legs. 

He caught them just before they both pitched to the floor. “My chest?” he asked. 

She regarded him, drolly. “Silly, the chest we picked up with the contract. Let’s go check it.”

“It seems River understands what is needed. Captain, will you assist me at the forge? There is one component I must make myself.”

The thrill of being chosen over stronger, and younger, and prettier to work side by side, lingered through the fierce heat and physical strain. Mal tried not to be distracted by the curve of ears, visible with that thick hair bound back, or the deep demarcations of arm and shoulder muscle. Neither of them had stripped off under the heavy leather aprons despite the heat, and for that, he was grateful. 

They were making a sounding buoy of sorts, with a cage to hold an elaborate instrument that looked like a gyroscope made of crystal. Jayne strolled over with two wooden cups of water just as they were finishing. “We figured out how to attach them chains where the engines won’t melt ‘em.”

“Well done,” Legolas smiled back at Jayne and accepted a cup. “The buoy needs to cool slowly through the night. This outpost has private quarters—enough for all, linen sheets, good food—and a hot spring on the lower level. If you would spell yourselves from sleeping shipboard, I will play host. Notwithstanding the intruder earlier, we are quite safe here.” 

“Is there whisky?” Jayne asked. Mal wondered if it was paranoia that made him think Jayne was eyeing Legolas through the layers of leather and sweat-soaked tunic. He wasn’t aware that Jayne had any sly tendencies, but that look….

Legolas chuckled. “If you mean spirits, I do have something that will serve.”

“I need to clean up, change clothes,” Mal mumbled, stepping away. He couldn’t know if it was wishful thinking made the back of his neck tingle as he walked to the ship.  
******* 

Night had fallen when Mal emerged from Serenity freshly showered and shaved. He tried to appreciate the lightning bugs as he followed the sound of laughter and singing back to the outpost. 

He hadn’t wanted to bathe more publicly in the spring. Just the thought of a tunic sliding off broad shoulders made him unpresentable. 

A meal of fresh, planet-side food, fantastic swill, and mirthful company brought him truly back to the others. Family. _Mine_ , he mused, with a comfortable sense of belonging. 

Legolas caught his eye over Kaylee’s head as she lounged against Mal and another moment was shared. Experience suggested that this exchange carried more than the camaraderie of seasoned leaders. That experience kept the state of his britches tenuous.

It wasn’t imagination that Legolas moved as if he flowed. Mal mused whether the planet of Legolas’ origin had stronger gravity, but the advantage of that differential would be lost over so much time spent on the ground here. Longer limbs? Martial arts?

“Where’d you go, Cap?” Kaylee inquired, her chin tipped up to look back at him, eyes soft with wine, head against his shoulder. It took him off guard in his vulnerable state—she sometimes had that effect, and he had a practiced response. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead.

“Just contented at the state of our little family,” he murmured, quickly looking back up and giving her the line of his jaw. He would have to especially watch himself around the crew until their passenger was deposited at his destination. 

Despite the comfort of the gathering, he didn’t stay much longer. “I know you try as not to notice, but elder’s need more sleep,” he fibbed wryly to his crew as he took leave.

As Mal tracked reflected moonlight across the rustic ceiling, he resisted the easy urge to see to himself, feeling stubborn. He let his thoughts drift to more serious matters. 

In his secret heart, he missed Zoe something fierce. He’d had to basically force her off the ship after she had the baby, ordered her to stay off for a six month stretch. If she still had a ken to come back after a full taste of civilization and parenthood, well, then, he swore he’d find a way to not be terrified every minute that on account of him, something would happen to the last bit of Wash in the ’verse. Her parting, baleful look—despite Inara’s arms about her—stuck with him. He made up his mind just then that three months was more than long enough. Time to fetch them—if Zoe bore fetching at all. Could be that in his absence, she’d realize that a safer life with herself in charge felt shiny. Being around him again might just call up all she’d lost.

When his door rapped once, he had both feet on the floor before he remembered the safe setting. “Come in.” 

“I did not intend to startle you,” Legolas said in a low voice, closing the door silently behind him and returning the room to dusk. “Nor did I wish to be overly stealthy.” He stayed at the door, resting back against it. 

Mal relaxed. “Is everything alright?”

“Nothing is amiss. But I feel restless tonight. I have been alone for a few months. Not so long in my sense of time, but enough to lose surety in my understanding of a situation between two people recently met.”

Not for the first time that evening, Mal reflected that Legolas talked like Inara was known to dance. He stood and went to lean on the windowsill so as not to crowd his host, feeling a little self-conscious for only having left on his thermal leggings whereas the elf— _Quenda_ , his inner-River corrected, wore a long, silk tunic and seemed positively regal. “You think that you feel my attraction but you’re not sure,” Mal restated what he thought he was hearing. The quick intake of breath made him smile. “I decided that being sidelong wasn’t the best approach.”

Legolas laughed. “Just so.”

“Well, I should also mention that I think not a one of us is immune to the pull of your shiny self, including my merc who’s never looked twice at anyone lacking in bosom.”

“They are sweet and frivolous, even in their serious mien, except, perhaps for the canny child. She is volatile and dangerous, loyal and extraordinary.”

“I hold her as she is. All of ‘em.”

In the near-dark, he could see Legolas nod. “You do. As I did.” 

The anguished note in the modulated voice, the depth of loss, brought Mal away from the window, opening his arms before he had a thought to do it. The soft-hard that filled them an instant later and nestled to his chest felt so right. 

The nestling led to caresses, strong hands teasing along his bare skin, faces cheek to cheek. Mal became hyper-attuned, aware that both their breathing had deranged into sips and gasps. He angled his mouth for a kiss, tentative, unsure whether it would be welcome. With a muted growl, Legolas surged against him, backing him against the bed and knocking them, entangled, to the blankets.

Mal yielded to the storm—widely known among his lovers not to be his most frequent choice—with abandon.

In the dark hours after moonset, Mal awakened to find himself curled against Legolas’ side. His lips were swollen and his ass ached with a sharp reminder that he didn’t often receive. But just reflecting on the pang for a split second brought him hard again. Breathing changed, and he realized that his bedmate was also awake. He swept a hand over the other hardened cock within reach. 

Legolas groaned. “’Tis too soon.”

“Part of you begs to differ.”

A huff of a laugh sounded, which Mal found gratifying. Although sorrowful, Legolas kept humor close to hand, which Mal particularly appreciated in a person. 

In a deeper, surfacing-from-sleep voice, Legolas conceded, “You compel me.”

“It’s a surprise. I’m raggedy and you’re so…”

“Symmetrical?” 

It was Mal’s turn to laugh. “Put much less poetically than I had in mind. And it’s more than that.”

Legolas tucked an arm behind his head. “Yes, my species has a certain look. It is not magic although humans here believe it that. We evolved with a bioluminescence just at the edge of the human visual range. It frustrates the particular infrared sight of some predators.”

Mal nodded. “I’ve seen others of your kind. They’re lovely, yeah, sort of ghostly, shimmery and remote. That’s not you. You’re 100% here. You’re like that molten metal we worked this afternoon. Except I never wanted to fuck molten metal. And you kiss like… I haven’t got a comparison.” 

“Thank you. I shall kiss you some more.” 

Mal broke away a few minutes later, short of breath again. He was shaking with want, aware that his cock was suddenly leaking all over Legolas’ thigh. 

Legolas sighed, “You do not see yourself as I do. There is much to reflect upon in the well-made man that you are, your confident air. But underneath, you are held back, always restrained unless you let go to protect another. That speaks to me. I want to unleash you.” Long legs shifted underneath him. “I am inviting you in, Mal, please accept.”

How could he not? His arms seemed barely able to hold him as he braced to slide in, past superficial resistance and into the depths of another being. His mouth descended to be welcomed. Legolas groaned under him and thrust up. Mal met him over and over.

Yet again, he had been too long alone. But this was more than the relief of that state and he knew it. He let that knowledge flow into his movements, forceful, and tender even past intention because at his core, Mal was tender. 

As pleasure rose, so did grief and rage—not the righteous anger of principle, but animal rage at losses no explanation could assuage. And Legolas stayed with him every moment of the way. At the peak, all of what they conjured together became a conflagration of purging fire.  
******* 

The others were quiet—noticeably so—at breakfast and as they made preparations to leave. Mal would have considered it a companionable silence had there not been so many significant glances exchanged amongst them, some surreptitiously directed to Legolas with hidden smiles when he wasn’t looking. 

They all helped secure the outpost and reset the perimeter. Jayne was alone with Mal, coding a security fence, when he broke the silence by clearing his throat. It was unlike Jayne to be tentative in anything. 

“Spit it out,” Mal said a bit more impatiently than he intended. He figured that the night’s activities might not have gone unremarked toward the end of that wee hours round. 

“Ah, well, Captain, I can’t say as I had previously confirmed that your taste ran to men as well as womenfolk—only having a teensy indication here and there along the years. Although this one being particular beautiful and all is worth noting.”

Mal fidgeted with a latch. “That knowing change anything between us?” He felt a bit of a chill that it might, but there was no help for it now.

Jayne snorted dismissively. “Doesn’t make you not you and me not me.” He turned enough to give Mal one eye. “And I have to pay respect. I’ve done a fair lot of masterful sexing in my life, but I never made anybody _sing_.”

Sharing laughter with Jayne eased the last bit of grief that had survived the night, and Mal went to the conn to reach out to Zoe.

*******


End file.
